Stupidity is catching
by terfle
Summary: A silly set of situations with Gordon & Jill. Apparantly they are both incredibly thick. Light hearted parody
1. Chapter 1

He waved his hand in front of her face

-Jill! Can you see me? He yelled

-Of course I can see you, said she, very ratty. I'm not blind

-Erm. He didn't want to tell her that she was standing in front of the back door instead of the front door because that one was painted green and this one was brown. She might just throw a hissy fit and hurl the kettle at him, something she was clutching instead of her scarf, which was what she was supposed to wearing, they were going to a concert in the village hall. And he didn't see how she could go without seeing what colour knickers she was bringing along with her so she could throw it at the guitarist. If it were her grey briefs, she would never live it down

-C'mon then. He dragged her to the car

-Why can't I drive?

-Because you're…Oops. Nearly put his foot in it

-I'm what?

-Never mind. They were soon there. He drove through the car park looking for spaces

-There's a good one there. She pointed

-Where?

-Over there, by that blue car

-What blue car? That one there?

-Are you joking, that one's miles off, that one there

-I can't see one

-You must be blind or something, look, there!

-That one? That car's red Jill

-Whatever. Hurry up, lets get there. I can hear music

(The concert goes as well as is expected. At the point where knickers are being thrown, a pair of white briefs sail through the air. He knew it. He sighed. Now he'd have to find an excuse to extract them from the guitarist's head without being seen…)

-Well that wasn't so bad

-Was it my white or grey ones?

-Errr, neither, he lied. Best not tell her, he might as well write his farewell note while he was walking along, searching for the car. Good point

-Where's the car again?

-By the blue car, I told you

(They reached the end of the car park, Gordon tearing at his bald patch, Jill gazing around aimlessly)

-Where's the car?

-Where's that blue one I'd like to know

-Who cares about it? It was red anyways!

-Look, I know what I saw

-Lets find our car first (Looking around in trepidation, the plucky pair roam around the car park searching for a dented green mini)

-Found it!

-Finally! Why is by the dustbin?

-Don't know. Do you run one over while parking?

-I don't run things over Jill, have you ever known me to have a crash? Hang on, this mirror's intact, that can't be right. Jill! This isn't our car. It's not green!

-Isn't it?

-No! Its orange!

-How did I miss that…?

-I don't know, lets find our car!

(A lot of running around like headless chickens is done)

-How come there are orange cars on the road?

-I don't know, lets find ours first!

(After much searching, they locate it in the next car park. Exasperated, they drive home in bad spirits)


	2. Chapter 2

(The next morning they go the hospital, not just for the usual work, but because to Gordon's annoyance, since some cow stepped on his foot with her something inch heels last night, he couldn't creep up on the guitarist quite so lightly and got escorted off the premises for lunging at the guy at nearly knocking him out)

-Yes, well, this looks quite serious

-What do you think can be done? It looks quite swelled up

-Plenty of bed rest and some ointment. If its no better in a few days time, come back and we'll see about it

-Thanks Mr Rose

-I can't be bothered for that

-Gordon, just do as he says. You can't do your job properly with those stupid crutches. It's ruining your shoulder muscles

(More grumbling is heard down the corridors for quite some time)

-Mr Rose! Come quickly!

-Get him into theatre! It's urgent!

(She paces up and down, worrying how he was doing. And what colour socks he put on today. She wouldn't put it past him to wear odd ones. Idiot)

-Well, that's that done. I prescribe plenty of bed rest

-How is he?

-Right as rain. Those crutches might come in handy though

-Dammit. Why?

-Not to worry, you can see him now

(She was sure he had been wearing odd coloured socks. Silly man. She hovered by his bedside)

-How are you doing?

-Felt better. Check the damage will you?

-Ooh, don't like the look of that

-Is it that bad?

-See for yourself

-!

-Calm down dear, it's just the end of the toe. Mr Rose mentioned something about multiple bruising

-It's purple!

-Is it?

-I really don't see what all the fuss is about. It's just a little bit of the toe

-Don't want to talk about it

-Fine. Don't come to me when it turns magenta

-Where did you come up with that colour?

-Lizzie was wearing it today

-Was she? His mind wandered to the particularly short mini she was wearing today. A bright canary yellow. With a lilac top. No magenta there. Or was she thinking of red? His brow wrinkled

-Anyways. Can you shut the window?

-Why? It's nice outside

-Got a headache. Can hear a shrill, tinging noise in my ears

-That's the birds outside

-Can't see any

-Look at that one there, the pretty little green one

-Jill, there are no little green birds in England. That one's brown and white

-Why are you bothered?

-Because if you go around pointing out little green birds, people are going to think you're crazy

-Oh

-I'm tired, lets go to bed

-Can you get up the stairs?

-Yes! I just need a hand. I've just got a headache. Going to sleep it off. Coming?

-Coming


	3. Chapter 3

-My head really hurts

-Gordon, its 3 in the morning

-Haven't you got a headache?

-I have a ringing in my ears. From your whinging

-But I have a headache…

-We'll go to the hospital first thing in the morning. Now just shut up

-I can hear twittering

-It's the birds. Now shut up

-I could have sworn it was…oh never mind

(In the morning they go back to the hospital. Again)

-Back again? Smoke emanated from the black chair as Mr Rose surveyed his patient. Again.

-Very irregular prognosis indeed. I suggest plenty of bed rest

-I can't help it! Pass me my coat Jill. No, not that one, that Mr Rose's. Mine's brown

-Do you think I'm blind? I can see your coat. Here. She shoves it at him unceremoniously and wanders to the window

-Again, very sorry about this. It seems my ears have been playing tricks on me

-Not to worry, common occurrences. Drink plenty of tea and you'll feel right as rain after a few days

-Righty oh. Come on Jill, let's go

-When do you ever wash your windows? Look at them, covered in a film of dust

Mr Rose puffs up indignantly and answers curtly

-That's the curtain Doctor

-Really?

-Yes well, we won't be disturbing you again. Thanks. Lowers his tone as he walks out of the room in vexation

-Just because we don't have net curtains in our house, it doesn't mean they don't exist

-I wasn't talking about the curtains. I was talking about the dust on them

He sighs. Again

-Never mind, lets get out of here

(Nurse Davenport approaches them and asks another irritating question)

-Doctor Weatherill, which pills do I use for that guy, the one with a broken leg? The one who keeps sneaking whisky in. He's complaining again

-Give him the blue ones, she called over her shoulder

-Righty then

-Hang on, aren't those the anti-depressants?

-Well which ones am I supposed to give him?

-The white ones. I think. They turn around swiftly and sprint along the corridor. Already they can hear the drunken singing from where they were…

-What's wrong with you? Cat got your tongue? More head shaking from the muted doctor. He was too pissed off to tell her. If he could. Katie looked up from the mess that was her art homework and reported back to her exasperated stepmother.

-He's not happy about his walking stick. And the way Lizzie does her hair. The way Mr Rose uses his office as an ashtray. And-

-Yes yes, what's the real problem? enquired Jill, she needed to get to yoga class soon and she couldn't without sorting out her husband first. He was hopeless. Only last week he put his tea in his cereal and sugar on his scrambled eggs. She hoped it wasn't a midlife crisis too soon. She really couldn't handle that. Not now. She needed to know how to wrap her legs around some position or other this class, or was that last weeks? Her mind flitted to other matters…

-He's doing it again-Katie tugged her sleeve. Pouring his tea into his cereal again. She tapped him on the shoulder and asked him why he was behaving like a prat today. Again. He mouthed her an explanation about losing his voice

-You think tea and cereal will help it do you?

He shrugged and carried on slurping. At least there would be a bit of peace in the house now that he's stopped yelling every time he knocked into something with corners. She was determined to get down to the bottom of this sudden voice loss…

-Something to do with Mr Rose. He saw him in his office recently and when he came back he didn't speak again. Just gestured and scribbled notes to his patients. Like he'd been abducted by aliens or something.

They were standing outside reception; Jill lounging against the wall, Lizzie sipping some tea Matron had sent back with the excuse it was too sweet. They was finishing enlightening Jill with her errant husband's current affliction

-What do you think could it be? Something Mr Rose did or said?

-Dunno. Ask him

-I can't! He doesn't want to talk!

-I was talking about Mr Rose. Jill thought about it

-That would make sense. The man in question was stalking up the corridor as they discussed, moustache bristling, head gleaming with a military stance. Just the type to be afflicted with temporary amnesia on hot days. But that was not the issue this time

-What have you been doing in your office with my husband?

That really was not the way to go about things. Especially not with Mr Rose. You needed to be concise and particular. Not Jill's style at all. She cleared her throat. He looked down at her quizzically, like an eagle with a natty moustache.

-Hm, yes?

Jill felt foolish now

-Why's my husband lost his voice? I was told he was last seen in your office with his voice intact. What do you say to that?

-I say he was astounded by my amazing airplane collection, said he, smoothly

-Eh? Jill hadn't been prepared for this revelation

-You do know he likes paper airplanes? I have some in my office

-Errrr. Of course she knew, his collection was insane. She hated the things, herself

–S'cuse me. She rushed back home, mortified. Wait till she got her hands on him. All that for some crappy paper models

-Gordon! Steal some of his airplanes or burn them! I won't have you loosing your voice over the amazement of those things!

Dammit. She'd caught him now. Pretend he'd never seen the things. He began to whistle haphazardly. His voice was back now; he'd gotten over it. Meanwhile he'd build some really good models that would make that old Doc jealous. Just you wait…


	4. Chapter 4

-Stop scratching; you'll make it worse. She stood in the hall looking dolefully at her arm, highly unseemly for a doctor. Waylaying another in her path, she stopped him to check that it wasn't poisoning her, before being reassured it was just a rash. Dammit. It didn't go with what she was wearing

-Gordon! What is this? She scratched unsuccessfully at the reddening skin

-Don't touch it

-Is it poison?

-Don't be stupid. It's just a rash. A rash? From what? Her mind went back to a few options earlier that week, treating Mrs Green's varicose veins weren't too pretty, nor was poking a syringe into that teenager with rabies. She bet she had caught something off him. She shuddered and went to reception

-Mummy look! It's a monster! Jill turned around irritably and started as the stupid child in front of her, pointing to her arm. She was tempted to slap her. Then she looked at her arm and saw why. It was deformed. It looked like dried up PVA glue crumbling her skin into crumbs. Eurgh. Disgusting. The kid had a point, but she wasn't going to let her know that. Walking away, into Mr Rose's office, she perched on his desk and waited for the smoke to disappear. He diagnosed eczema, something totally harmless. Phew. She would have no kid telling her she looked like a pile of crumbling red brick. Now it was left to Gordon to say something and he was as silly as any 5 year old over something as minor as this. Typical. She made sure she would pass his office later on this shift. Now to find some gloves…ones that would match her outfit.


End file.
